Chapter 2

"Gibbs!" Abby ran up to him. "How's Tony!"

"He's fine, Abs, what'd ya got for me?"

"Not much and everything. The 'everything' part has to do with the bullet you found that almost took off Tony's head. I was able to ID the type of rifle it came from: an M82A1, the early version. The 'not much' part is that this particular rifle is very common. You can get it practically anywhere. So when's Tony coming back to work?"

"He's already here. Upstairs."

"Really? I have to go see him!"

"Not yet. Did you get any fingerprints off the bullet?"

"No. In fact, it was lodged so deep into that Oak tree that I didn't get anything from it at all, except for fragments of the tree, not even DNA from Tony."

Gibbs handed her a caf-pow and turned to leave.

"Gibbs! Can I see him now?"

He took a minute to think about DiNozzo's splitting headache and weighed it against her exuberance. "I'm sure he'd like that."

88~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Grab your gear. An explosion at Ft. Belvoir."

Tony, Ziva, and Tim snatched up their guns, badges and backpacks and followed Gibbs. There was a four person pileup when Gibbs stopped suddenly, causing McGee to run into Tony who pushed into Ziva who bumped into her boss. "Sorry, Gibbs," she quickly said, throwing an annoyed glance back at her partner, who passed it backwards to McGee.

"DiNozzo, where do you think you're going?"

"I'm going with you, Boss."

Gibbs tilted his head and looked at his agent.

"C'mon, Boss. I'm fine. It's been over two weeks and the headaches are gone, the blurred vision is gone, even the bandage is gone. And I've been cleared for duty by the resident doc. Besides, we're getting nowhere locating the person who shot me, so why can't I work a case?"

Gibbs waggled his head, evaluating the argument, then turned and entered the elevator, ignoring his senior field agent's grin.

Once inside the gates of Ft. Belvoir, Gibbs maneuvered their Ford Taurus into a vacant slot, and surveyed the area. Already, there was yellow tape strung around the perimeter of a warehouse and guards posted at every turn. An MP stopped them. "Sir, can I see some ID?"

Gibbs flashed his badge and credentials and asked, "Is this where the explosion took place?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Anybody killed?"

"We can't find any bodies, but there's a lot of blood. We're doing a personnel check now."

Gibbs walked inside and was met by the burnt odor of old surplus military supplies. The only source of light came from a 2nd story window. "Ziva, DiNozzo, take pictures. McGee, talk to the soldier who called it in."

"Right."

Gibbs stared at the floor. It was covered in some sort of crimson-colored liquid which didn't seem to have any real source. Ducky was pulling samples to take back to the lab when Gibbs leaned over his shoulder and asked, "Do you think it's human?"

"It's too hard to tell. It could be from an animal, I supposed, a large one maybe."

Gibbs stepped back to allow Ziva maximum advantage to the floor and surrounding areas that were covered in debris from the fire. He looked around the interior of the dimly lit room. "DiNozzo, see if you can open that bay door and get some light in here."

"Sure thing, Boss." Tony walked across the room and examined the heavy steel bay door, looking around for a switch or something that would lift it. He found a rope dangling from a pulley and smiled, "Got it, Boss. I'll have it opened in a minute!" He tugged, but it didn't budge. "Better make that two minutes."

From across the room, McGee watched his colleague wrestle with the rope and couldn't suppress a smile. "C'mon Tony, put some of that extra weight into it!"

"I'll have you know I've lost a few pounds. However, McKnow-It-All, you might be on to something." Slinging the camera around his neck, he grabbed the rope as high as he could reach and jumped, allowing the full weight of his body to act as leverage against the stubborn door. The last thing he remembered seeing was a giant flash as the door exploded into a ball of fire and he was catapulted across the room from the force.

88~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How is he?" Gibbs asked, suppressing his impatience.

"Surprisingly, he's better off than we originally thought," the doctor answered. "He has multiple wounds, but most are superficial. There're no broken bones and only a couple of gashes that warranted sutures." He flipped through some pages on a clipboard and said, "If I'm to understand, he's coming off an earlier head injury? He was shot?"

"Yeah," Gibbs answered like it was a common occurrence.

The doctor waited for more, but when nothing was forthcoming, he said, "He has a concussion, we're not sure how severe yet, but it doesn't help that he's suffered a previous head wound. I have to warn you, he's going to look a lot worse than he is. Lots of cuts and bruises, but at this point, we believe there's nothing too serious and he'll make a full recovery."

The doctor startled when the double doors to the waiting room flew open and a woman with jet black pigtails, black lipstick and black platform boots burst into the room. "Where is he? Where is Tony? Gibbs! Is he okay? I rushed here as fast as I could. I can't believe it! Is he okay?"

"Abby," Ziva said. "Tony is fine. A little cut up, and maybe another headache, but he's going to be fine."

"I can't believe what happened to him! Is it bad luck? Or is there something else going on? I'm all about positive thoughts right now. Can I see him?"

All eyes turned to the doctor who still seemed to be shocked by this woman's appearance.

Ziva repeated, "Is it okay if we see him, Doctor?"

"I don't see why not. He's mildly sedated, so don't stay too long."

The doctor was right; Tony was a mess. He was bruised from the top of his head to his feet and had cuts and scrapes in every exposed part of his body. Abby pulled up a chair and sat down, defying anyone to make her move. She covered his hand with hers and started talking good thoughts, "Tony? I know you're sleeping—well, not really sleeping, probably more like a drug induced slumber, but if you need anything―not now, of course, but when you wake up, just let me know. Oh, I wanted to tell you that I bowled a great game last night. The best I've ever rolled. And Sister Bernadette also bowled a personal best. It was a good night for bowling. You should have come with us because the sisters, well, you know how they fawn all over you. They ask about you every night. They think you should be married, but I tell them you and I are a lot alike. We like to play the field."

"Abby?"

She looked up at Gibbs with large dark eyes, "Yes?"

"I'm going to put someone at his door tonight. If he wakes up, he's going to want to leave. Talk him out of it?"

"You really think he'll leave? Wait! That means you think someone is trying to kill him! I won't let anybody get near him… Do you really think he'll try to leave?"

Gibbs tilted his head and gave her a steady look.

"Right. It's Tony, of course he'll try and leave. And I won't let him. I'll stay by his side all night if I have to."

He kissed her forehead and said, "That won't be necessary."

Gibbs pushed through the exit doors of the hospital followed closely by his team. McGee asked, "What do you think, Boss? You think someone is really trying to kill Tony?"

"I don't know, McGee. Maybe that's what YOU'RE FOR!"

88~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ziva and Tim stood in front of Tony's desk, staring down at him. His face was a mass of cuts, scrapes and bruises, and his eyebrows and some of his hair had been singed from the blast, but the real concern was lying just behind his eyes. Deeper in color, they were flinty, and that left them both curious and worried at the same time.

"What!" he said.

"You should not be here," Ziva answered.

"And why is that?"

"Tony," McGee answered, "it's been three days. You should still be in the hospital."

"What for, McMother? As you can see, there's nothing wrong with me."

Ziva turned and dropped her purse in the cabinet drawer and slammed it shut, "THAT is a matter of opinion!"

"And in my opinion, I'm fine."

"You have another concussion!"

"I've been hit harder by Gibbs."

"Did the doctor release you?"

Tony hedged, "He said if I was feeling better I could go home."

"When? Next week!"

Tony glared over his desk at his Israeli colleague. "Have you discovered who set off the bomb yet?"

McGee turned away from Tony, dropping his shoulders at the futility of arguing with the senior agent. It was 0630 and it was too early to engage the man who could out-talk anybody on any subject. He turned on his computer and punched on the keyboard. "We know the blood wasn't human blood; in fact, it wasn't blood at all. It was plasmalytes, a sort of synthetic blood, used mostly in special effects and film making."

Gibbs watched the exchange from the second floor, then turned and walked through the Director's door, shutting it behind him a little too forcefully.

"Something bothering you, Agent Gibbs?" Vance asked.

"You could say that. I have an agent who's barely escaped death twice and you're denying my requisition for more personnel to investigate this?"

Vance closed the file he was reading, "I see he's back in the office today. He up for the job?"

"I don' know, Director. What I do know is I need more manpower to run down leads. Both Abby and Ducky are working around the clock to come up with something—anything! Meanwhile, Ziva and McGee are chasing around long shots."

"Now that DiNozzo is back, you can put him to work."

"I don't want DiNozzo leaving this office."

Vance leaned back and clasped his hands in front of his belly, studying his subordinate. "Something bothering you today?"

Gibbs pulled a piece of paper from his inside jacket pocket and tossed it on the desk.

Vance looked down at it pensively before unfolding it. Written neatly on a single sheet of bonded paper were the words, How does it feel? He read it again, turning it over several times before looking up, "When did you get this?"

"Yesterday, it came in the mail, only there isn't any post mark on the envelope, which means it didn't come through the U.S. Postal Service. Whoever sent it has access to NCIS."

Vance studied Leroy Jethro Gibbs a full minute. There were few people who were better at their job than he, and pissing him off was never high on his list of things to do, but being adept at keeping him at bay had its own set of problems. Laying the note down on his desk, he asked, "What are you not telling me?"

Gibbs paused a minute before replying, "I think someone's trying to get to me, and I think they're doing it through Tony."

"Why?"

He shrugged, he had no idea because it could literally be a motive to dozens of people.

"Why do it this way?"

"It's not a new concept. Hell, Ari Hashari did it."

Vance exhaled loudly and looked around his desk at the mounds of files. "What do you need?"

"I need a 24 hour watch detail for DiNozzo, and I want another team to run down leads."

Vance couldn't help but smile at the first request. "You think Special Agent DiNozzo is going to sit by and let people shadow him?"

"You leave Tony to me."

TBC